First experience of going to church

The house I’ve rented is in a very beautiful village called Normandy, situated on the outskirts of Guildford. Next to its bus stop stands an old and beautiful church named St Mary’s Church. I was feeling down today, a little sad, so I decided to go out and walk around the village. As I was near the church, the sound of its bells drew me towards it. I waited until everyone had gone inside, then entered the church grounds and walked over to the notice board in the courtyard. While I was reading the board, a lady greeted me with a smile and invited me to come into the church. Politely and a little anxiously, I told her I wasn’t a Christian and wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for me to be there; I asked whether entering such a religious place would be considered disrespectful. She smiled and said not at all, the church is for everyone. Then she told me her name. I’m Judy, what’s your name? I’m Sushyant, nice to meet you.

I went inside the church and was greeted by another lady named Jill, who welcomed me. I sat on the last seat in the left row. A woman behind me, with an American accent, introduced herself and spoke to me. She was Sherry, an American lady who has been living in England for many years.

The service began and the vicar started speaking. He introduced himself as George. During the service, a book called Hymn was read. These are lyrical verses about Jesus Christ and the Heavenly Father. The church music, the congregation singing together and the beauty of the words really moved me. It was a delightful experience. Parts of the Bible were read as well, and then the vicar began preaching and explaining. He spoke about loving one’s neighbours and those close to us. He said a neighbour isn’t just someone who lives next door and elaborated interestingly on the subject.

Halfway through the service, Holy Communion was held. This part involves receiving bread and wine in remembrance of the Last Supper of Jesus and his disciples. Jill came to me and asked if I’d like to receive the bread and wine. Something inside me said it would be a good thing to do. I asked if I could, and she said of course I could. So I walked to the front of the church and received the bread and wine just like everyone else.

When the service ended, the vicar stood by the entrance speaking and saying goodbye to everyone. When he got to me, he introduced himself and asked for my name. He said he hadn’t seen me before. I explained that I had just arrived in England and this was my first experience attending a church. He welcomed me warmly and gave me his mobile number, asking me to come again next week.

It was a strange feeling. After years, I had stepped into a religious place. But the church was very different from a mosque. It was an environment filled with peace, and to be honest, unlike a mosque, I could truly feel a spiritual and sacred presence there, something I had never felt in a mosque.

I’d like to attend the service again, so now I have to wait until next Sunday.